


One and the Same

by thatkategirl82



Category: The Worst Witch (TV 2017)
Genre: Childhood Friends, Childhood Memories, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Hicsqueak, Mentor/Protégé, childhood Hicsqueak, in which Hecate realizes Mildred Hubble is just like her
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-27
Updated: 2020-11-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 07:01:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27729205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatkategirl82/pseuds/thatkategirl82
Summary: After Mildred Hubble finds herself at the center of another disaster, Hecate Hardbroom finds herself standing face-to-face with her crying student. What she didn't expect was that a simple conversation with Mildred would bring up memories of the past, and maybe a bit of hope for the future.
Relationships: Hardbroom & Mildred Hubble, Hardbroom/Pentangle (Worst Witch)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 73





	One and the Same

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, friends! I wanted some Hecate and Mildred mentor/mentee love (with a dash of Hicsqueak because I couldn't resist) and this was the result. As of now it will only be a oneshot but I am open to continuing if there's interest/I can develop an actual plot haha. I hope you enjoy and comments mean a lot to me! :)
> 
> TW: panic attack, self-hate

“And what would you know about being bullied?”

The sharp edge to Mildred Hubble’s voice was something entirely unlike the young girl, so much so that Hecate, who generally had a sharp-tongued retort for every situation, was stunned completely silent. She just blinked, frozen to the spot where she stood in front of the fuming student.

“She never stops, Miss Hardbroom! Ethel is trying to get me expelled constantly and she does terrible things, and I always get blamed for them. I don’t understand why everyone is always on her side.”

“Enough, Mil—,”

“No!” Mildred was crying now, hot tears leaking down her cheeks at a rapid pace. Hecate’s eyes widened and her eyebrows shot up into her hairline as, once again, words failed to come.

The latest Mildred versus Ethel debacle had resulted in the disappearance of Ada Cackle. It was the same story as all the usual incidents involving the two girls – Ethel had tried to frame Mildred, and Mildred had tried to fix things and instead made a mess of them. The result had been shrinking Ada to a two-inch high version of herself. She was so small that the cats had gone after her and she’d been forced to hide inside a drawer of her desk – one which Hecate had slammed shut in frustration upon discovering Ada missing.

A few hours later, Hecate had just expelled Mildred and sent the girl away to pack when tiny Ada showed up in the potion’s lab, riding on Pendle’s back like one of those absurd Western movies the Ordinary world seemed fascinated by. With a bit of help from Miss Drill, Ada was restored to her proper size and the crisis was resolved. Hecate was scolded (albeit very gently and with a twinkling gaze from her Headmistress) for expelling Mildred and promptly sent off to go inform the girl that her place at Cackle’s remained, while Ada informed Ethel of her punishment.

That was how Hecate Hardbroom found herself standing in the middle of Mildred Hubble’s room where the child was having a complete breakdown.

“You’ll never understand,” Mildred choked out through her tears, looking up at Hecate with an expression darker than any she’d see the girl wear before. “I bet you were popular, weren’t you, Miss Hardbroom? I bet you were great at everything just like Ethel. You’ve always been a great witch and that’s why you hate me, because I’m not and won’t ever be.”

A betting man would say Hecate’s eyebrows could raise no farther, and yet Mildred Hubble’s sentence made them nearly rocket straight to the moon.

Hecate’s immediate reaction was fury. Anger burned through her veins and her lip curled – she even leaned forward with a sharp, quick motion that made Mildred recoil. She sucked in a breath to roar at Mildred’s disrespect, but instead locked eyes with the tearful girl. The look of total devastation and self-hatred, a look that Hecate had seen reflected back at her from her own eyes, made her anger whoosh away like the air from a popped balloon.

“I just want to be good enough, Miss Hardbroom.” Two glassy eyes looked up briefly, imploringly, before clenching shut and disappearing behind the safety of her hands.

Hecate was frozen completely to the spot. Mildred was full on sobbing, her head hanging lower than Hecate had ever seen from the accident-prone child. Mildred’s braids bounced back and forth as her shoulders shook, and Hecate’s fingers itched to transfer herself far far away from this uncomfortable situation. 

Instead, Hecate straightened herself back up to her full height. She pressed her lips together tightly for a long moment, thinking. Then:

“That’s quite enough, Mildred Hubble,” Her words were quiet and soft – something even Hecate was surprised she could manage when it came to Mildred. Stiffly, before she was cognizant of her actions, she found herself reaching tentatively toward Mildred as if to offer the girl a squeeze of the shoulder – but retracted her arm immediately when she realized what she was doing. Instead, Hecate conjured a handkerchief and thrust it out towards the girl. “Here. Clean yourself up, would you?”

Mildred looked up, bleary eyed and snotty, but took the handkerchief without objection. She scrubbed at her face and blew her nose, then held it out to Hecate.

Eyebrows making yet another race towards the heavens, Hecate shook her head. “You may keep that.”

Mildred nodded and swallowed, dropping her gaze to her shoe which she scuffed against the floorboards. She clutched the handkerchief in both hands, wringing it nervously.

“Thanks.” She mumbled.

Hecate gave a single nod.

The two stood in uncomfortable silence for a moment. Hecate with her body rigid and lips pressed tightly into a line, her mind whirring for something _comforting_ to say to the girl, and Mildred with rapidly reddening cheeks as the embarrassment of her outburst set upon her.

“You are go—,”

“I’m sorry Mi—,”

The two of them spoke at once, both immediately clamping their mouths shut at the same time. Mildred looked even more humiliated and Hecate felt her heartbeat quicken as her anxiety about this situation increased tenfold.

After another insufferable moment, Hecate sighed in frustration.

“Come with me.”

Hecate twisted her fingers and the two disappeared, reappearing somewhere Mildred had never been. The girl blinked and looked around with an open-mouthed gaze, taking in the tall shelving stuffed with multi-colored books from floor to ceiling. There were various potions ingredients and measuring tools scattered about a large, imposing, dark wood desk situated near a window that overlooked the forest to the East. Adjacent to the desk, two armchairs sat in front of a fireplace. In the far corner of the room, a large bed with a black cat snoring gently at the center.

Mildred blinked. “You have a cat?”

Hecate, who had turned away from the girl to prepare tea, glanced back with an eyebrow quirked. “What a ridiculous question – of course I have a cat. All witches have familiars. Have you truly learned nothing from your time here?”

Mildred went silent and Hecate sighed internally. Maybe now was not the time to criticize the girl’s knowledge.

“Morgana,” Hecate nodded towards the feline, whose ears twitched at her name but who otherwise chose to ignore the nap interruption, “is fond of her privacy. She spends her days just as you see her and wanders about at night when the castle is quiet.”

“She’s pretty.”

The corners of Hecate’s lips turned up as she spared a glance toward her familiar. “Don’t let her hear you say that. She is vain enough as it is.” As if listening, Morgana flicked her tail.

A hint of a smile ghosted across Mildred’s face, and Hecate felt proud of herself. It was easier to find words here, in her own space, where she was once again the one in control. It also helped that Mildred had finally stopped crying.

“Sit, Mildred. I’ll be over with tea in a moment.”

Hecate nodded towards an armchair in front of the fireplace, and Mildred scurried over to do as she was told. With a twist of her hand, Hecate lit the fire and then busied herself finishing the tea. She was about to take the tray over when she caught sight of a tin of biscuits and decided to bring them as well. As thoughtful as Ada was to gift her biscuits for her birthday each year, she never touched them because she didn’t like the flavor…unfortunately, she also didn’t have the heart to inform Ada of her distaste; hence the newest tin of unopened biscuits gifted only a few days earlier.

Hecate joined Mildred by the fire and was not shocked when the girl showed much greater interest in the biscuits than she did the tea. Hecate smiled, ever so slightly, as she watched Mildred’s eyes light up. The inclusion of the biscuits had been the correct choice, clearly. The two of them sat in a slightly-uncomfortable-yet-bearable silence while they sipped on their tea; the only sounds were the crackling fire and Mildred’s slurps.

“I’m not expelled, then?”

Mildred’s voice startled Hecate from her thoughts, and she looked away from the orange embers of the fire and into dark, fearful eyes.

“No, you are not expelled,” Hecate lifted her cup to her lips and took the smallest sip. Mildred watched her unwaveringly. “I…overreacted, this afternoon. Please be assured your place here is secure.” It took every ounce of self-control not to add _for now_.

The relief in Mildred was visible – her shoulders relaxed, and she sank back into the chair, swinging her legs back and forth mindlessly. She reached out and grabbed another biscuit, taking a bit and stealing a glance at Hecate in the process.

“Um,” Mildred swallowed her mouthful of food and then cleared her throat. “I’m sorry, Miss Hardbroom. About earlier…about today, all of it. I shouldn’t have tried to alter Ethel’s spell and...,” She hesitated, worrying her lip between her teeth and playing with the half-eaten biscuit in her hands. Hecate had to resist snapping at her for getting crumbs all over the carpet. “And I’m sorry about the things I said in my room.”

Hecate opened her mouth to retort with a _yes, Mildred Hubble, it was highly inappropriate and if you dare speak to me that way again I will have you expelled for good this time_ but found the words dried up before they reached her lips. Instead, Mildred’s tearful face flashed into her mind. Her stomach sank as she thought back to 30 years before, standing in the same room, speaking the same words.

* * *

“I just want to be good enough, Pippa!”

Hecate’s fingers wrapped tightly around the gold pocket watch resting against her chest. She squeezed it so tightly her knuckles turned white and her hands began to shake. Ducking her head, Hecate tried to focus on breathing in through her nose and out through her mouth but couldn’t. It was all too much. The walls felt like they were pressing in on her – she couldn’t breathe – oh God, she really couldn’t breathe –

“Hiccup, look at me. Hiccup!”

Hecate’s eyes flew open when she felt Pippa’s hands on her shoulders. She didn’t know when Pippa had moved from her place seated on Hecate’s bed, but here she was standing face to face with her while she had a full-blown meltdown.

"Hecate, it’s okay. It’s okay.” Pippa leaned in to press her forehead against Hecate’s. “Please breathe, Hiccup. In through your nose and out through your mouth just like before, okay? I’ll do it with you.”

And so she did. Pippa breathed at a four count, in and out, over and over, encouraging Hecate to mirror her and murmuring gentle words of comfort as they went. 

Slowly, Hecate’s heartbeat began to slow as her breaths came easier. But as the breaths flowed easier, so did the tears. She wasn’t sure when Pippa had stopped counting breaths, but the blonde had instead pulled Hecate into her embrace and held her shaking frame tightly against her steadfast one. Hecate cried, long and hard, allowing herself to fall apart because she knew that Pippa would hold her pieces together.

Pippa wouldn't allow her to shatter.

Hecate wasn’t sure how long she cried – she had no sense of time from when the panic attack began to when her sobs finally quieted. Somehow Pippa had led her over to the bed, where the two were now sat side by side, Pippa’s head resting on Hecate’s shoulder and their fingers laced together.

When Pippa noticed the sniffling stop, she sat up and turned her warm brown eyes on Hecate, who ducked her head in mortification.

“I’m sorry.” She mumbled, voice raspy and throat sore.

“Oh, Hiccup,” Pippa sat up straight, and reached out to brush away the strands of dark hair that had come loose from Hecate’s tight bun. “Please don’t ever apologize for being upset.”

Hecate said nothing.

“Listen to me,” Pippa hooked her finger under Hecate’s chin, tilting her face up so she could look directly into Hecate’s eyes. “You, Hecate Hardbroom, are incredible. You are good enough, whether that old bat Broomhead can see it or not. You will be a great witch – you already _are_ a great witch, Hiccup. You're the witchiest witch I know."

Despite herself, Hecate’s lips twitched upward.

Pippa smiled brightly and leaned in, planting a swift kiss on Hecate’s cheek.

"Now,” Pippa clapped her hands together and hopped off the bed. “Shall we get to work on these revisions so you can prove to Broomhead you’re the top witch in our year? Well, aside from me of course.”

Pippa giggled and pulled Hecate to her feet, immediately linking their arms together. Hecate, her cheeks aflame, couldn’t help the warmth that washed through her thanks to the one and only Pippa Pentangle.

Suddenly, she felt so much better.

* * *

“Miss Hardbroom?”

Hecate blinked, startling herself back into the present. She looked at Mildred, who was sitting on the edge of the chair and staring up at her expectantly.

“Yes, Mildred?”

“Did you...? Um, I apologized and I—,”

“Yes, I heard you. I was just…,” Hecate trailed off for the briefest moment, “thinking.”

Mildred kicked her feet a bit more, but also relaxed back into the chair as if accepting something.

“How long do I have detention for?” She asked, somewhat miserably.

Hecate straightened and looked down her nose at the girl, who looked as if she was expecting the worst. And then, Hecate surprised her.

“No detention.”

“No?” Mildred’s eyes went wide as saucers, and then her mouth split into a real smile. “Thanks, Miss Hardbroom!”

“Do not get used to it. After the debacle you were part of today, you can consider yourself lucky,” Hecate shot her a warning look. “Now, are you finished with your tea?”

Mildred nodded and placed her teacup on the tray.

“It’s nearly curfew. You are to get back to your room before I give you detention for being in the hall after hours.”

Mildred scrambled to her feet.

“Do know I will not hesitate to send Morgana after you if you even think of going to Miss Spellbody’s room instead of your own.” Hecate rose to her feet as well and walked with Mildred towards the door.

“No, I won’t,” Mildred said. “I promise.”

Hecate opened the door and stepped aside. “Goodnight, then.”

Mildred stepped through the door but then hesitated for a moment before turning back around. She looked nervous but straightened herself to her full height – which, admittedly, was not much compared to the towering Deputy Head. “Miss Hardbroom? Thank you. For the tea.”

Hecate inclined her head and Mildred, smiling, hurried off down the hall.

She wasn’t sure what possessed her to do it. The girl was all but gone and Hecate could wash her hands of the whole day. And yet, her emotions propelled her forward before practical thought could halt her.

Stepping into the hallway, she called out and Mildred stopped to look back over her shoulder.

“I want this to be very clear, Mildred Hubble,” Hecate’s voice rang out in its most authoritative tone, punctuating each word. “I will say this one time and one time only. Contrary to your beliefs, I do not, and have never, hated you. I find you frustrating and insufferable, but that is far from _hate_.” She took a single step forward and softened her voice to nearly a whisper. “I understand more than you will ever know, Mildred, so trust me when I say this: you are good enough.”

Hecate didn’t know what reaction she was expecting from Mildred, but it was not the one she got. Instead of jumping or squealing or _Lord forbid_ trying to physically embrace her, Mildred just stared. She stared, she nodded, and her eyes flashed with a sort of determination Hecate had never before seen from her.

“Goodnight, Miss Hardbroom.”

And she was gone.

Hecate stepped back into her chambers and then leaned her back against the door as it clicked shut. She let out a long breath and realized how suddenly weary she felt from the events of the day.

_You will be a great witch – you already_ are _a great witch, Hiccup. You're the witchiest witch I know._

Pippa’s voice echoed around her mind, and Hecate’s heart clenched. She had believed those words with every piece of herself. They were the words that had gotten her through that particular exam with Broomhead, not to mention the many more that followed. When Broomhead had taken a special interest in Hecate and started requiring extra individualized lessons, Pippa’s words were what kept Hecate from falling apart under the stress.

Even when Broomhead brought up Indigo Moon, and convinced Hecate she’d destroy Pippa in the same way if she didn’t let her go.

Even when Pippa cornered her after she skipped the broomstick waterskiing competition.

Even when she said she never wanted to see Pippa again.

Even now, 30 years later.

Hecate glanced at the mirror across the room. It was late, but Pippa had always been a night owl. They’d reconnected not long ago at the Spelling Bee, and then again even more recently when Pippa stepped in as interim Head. Circumstances Hecate had found unforgivable at the time, but that had been tied up neatly when Ursula Hallow’s lies were brought forth and Pippa expressed her support for Ada remaining in charge. A visit that had started on a bad note had ended with a hug and a ridiculous tap of Hecate’s nose – it had ended well. It had ended with those same words, again: _you're the witchiest witch I know._

Even more so, Pippa had seemed enthusiastic about the idea of staying in touch. Of reconnecting. Should she…?

Her body moving of its own accord, Hecate felt herself propelled towards the mirror; pulled by some invisible force. Before she could stop herself, or think rationally, Pippa’s name escaped her lips and then, suddenly, magically, the pink clad blonde woman appeared before her.

“Hecate?"


End file.
